Read Online Razor's Edge (Afflictions) by Racquel Reck - Free Book Online
Authors: Racquel Reck
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complete power over him while he sits in my chair has my core clenching and wishing that we were the only ones in the shop. It's odd—I haven't had sexual thoughts about a man since Gary, over three years ago. Why am I having them now? But damn, the man screams “sex god.”
Okay girl, chill. It isn’t going to happen. Not going to happen for so many reasons. He may not be a junkie, but the man is setting off warning bells in my head. Getting too worked up over him could be dangerous. I shake the images of my fantasy out of my head and cross the room to my chair. "Follow me."
"There’s a gun and ink over here."
Tryst and Bebe both stop working. Tryst’s looking at me with an arched brow, and Bebe looks like she’s waiting for me to slip a needle. No one uses Gary’s chair or his equipment. It’s the unwritten rule of the shop.
I clear my throat. "I’m more comfortable with my own gun."
Morgan’s eyes search mine from across the room, probably looking for clues to my sanity. God knows I’ve only acted like a wacko since I’ve met him. I haven’t met him. Not formally.
He sighs, then grabs his shirt and strolls over to my chair. He plops down, and the enchanting scent of Egyptian musk hits me. It's like the smell of the sandalwood incense I burn, only darker, spicier, and maybe a little herbal. Spellbound, my body wants to crawl into his arms so it surrounds me. That's ludicrous. I shake my head to clear the cloud of his provocative aroma and try not to breathe in too deep.
He hands me a picture of a flaming rock crushing into a skull—his band’s logo. I recognize it from the flyer earlier.
"I want it on my right pec."
His chest rises and falls with each breath, and I hold mine. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch him. Besides a few sporadic tatts along his abs, both pecs are ink free. Lightly running my hand over the spot where his tattoo will be, tiny zaps of electricity tingle my palm. He laughs and his chest vibrates. I snatch my hand away as though he just bit me.
"That tickled." His voice is as dark as his eyes and my stomach flips.
My cheeks heat. "Sorry. Just checking the spot where I'm gonna put the tatt." It's a lie. I didn't need to. My hand worked as if something else was moving it. Spellbound indeed . "Why the right?"
His blue gaze has me stumbling onto my stool. "I’m saving the left for something special."
#####
Fifteen minutes later, I have his band’s logo on tracing paper. My gun is ready to go with a tight round, size three needle. It’s great for outlining. Heart pounding, I run my hand over his smooth pec to check for hair. God, they feel amazing. The warm, hard feel of his skin sends heat blasting to my core. I want to explore more of his well-toned body. His breath rises and falls and he coughs. Oh, yeah! Right. No need to shave him.
I spray his pec down with a green soap solution so the stencil will stick. Carefully, I place the tracing paper over him, smooth it out, then remove it. Grabbing my mirror, I hold it so that he can see where I positioned it. "This good?"
He eyes it. "I think it needs to be a tad to the left."
Seriously? I positioned it perfectly.
Morgan's lips quirk. "Nah, just messin’. It’s good."
Letting out a sigh, I smile back at him and he laughs. I click on my machine and dip my needles into the black ink. Grabbing my paper towel, I wipe the spot where I’m gonna start and then follow the line left by the tracing paper. My needles graze part of his nipple.
Morgan flinches.
I raise the gun just in time.
His pec moves. "Sorry, won't happen again. You just startled me." He breathes in deep and plays with his lip ring. His heated stare locks on to me.
Adrenaline chases heat through my body. No man since Gary has ever made me feel this hyperaware of my femininity, and like the Shania Twain song, I feel totally like a woman. I can't do this. But then he'll think I'm even crazier if I back out. Taking a shaky breath, I try to clear
Okay girl, chill. It isn’t going to happen. Not going to happen for so many reasons. He may not be a junkie, but the man is setting off warning bells in my head. Getting too worked up over him could be dangerous. I shake the images of my fantasy out of my head and cross the room to my chair. "Follow me."
"There’s a gun and ink over here."
Tryst and Bebe both stop working. Tryst’s looking at me with an arched brow, and Bebe looks like she’s waiting for me to slip a needle. No one uses Gary’s chair or his equipment. It’s the unwritten rule of the shop.
I clear my throat. "I’m more comfortable with my own gun."
Morgan’s eyes search mine from across the room, probably looking for clues to my sanity. God knows I’ve only acted like a wacko since I’ve met him. I haven’t met him. Not formally.
He sighs, then grabs his shirt and strolls over to my chair. He plops down, and the enchanting scent of Egyptian musk hits me. It's like the smell of the sandalwood incense I burn, only darker, spicier, and maybe a little herbal. Spellbound, my body wants to crawl into his arms so it surrounds me. That's ludicrous. I shake my head to clear the cloud of his provocative aroma and try not to breathe in too deep.
He hands me a picture of a flaming rock crushing into a skull—his band’s logo. I recognize it from the flyer earlier.
"I want it on my right pec."
His chest rises and falls with each breath, and I hold mine. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch him. Besides a few sporadic tatts along his abs, both pecs are ink free. Lightly running my hand over the spot where his tattoo will be, tiny zaps of electricity tingle my palm. He laughs and his chest vibrates. I snatch my hand away as though he just bit me.
"That tickled." His voice is as dark as his eyes and my stomach flips.
My cheeks heat. "Sorry. Just checking the spot where I'm gonna put the tatt." It's a lie. I didn't need to. My hand worked as if something else was moving it. Spellbound indeed . "Why the right?"
His blue gaze has me stumbling onto my stool. "I’m saving the left for something special."
#####
Fifteen minutes later, I have his band’s logo on tracing paper. My gun is ready to go with a tight round, size three needle. It’s great for outlining. Heart pounding, I run my hand over his smooth pec to check for hair. God, they feel amazing. The warm, hard feel of his skin sends heat blasting to my core. I want to explore more of his well-toned body. His breath rises and falls and he coughs. Oh, yeah! Right. No need to shave him.
I spray his pec down with a green soap solution so the stencil will stick. Carefully, I place the tracing paper over him, smooth it out, then remove it. Grabbing my mirror, I hold it so that he can see where I positioned it. "This good?"
He eyes it. "I think it needs to be a tad to the left."
Seriously? I positioned it perfectly.
Morgan's lips quirk. "Nah, just messin’. It’s good."
Letting out a sigh, I smile back at him and he laughs. I click on my machine and dip my needles into the black ink. Grabbing my paper towel, I wipe the spot where I’m gonna start and then follow the line left by the tracing paper. My needles graze part of his nipple.
Morgan flinches.
I raise the gun just in time.
His pec moves. "Sorry, won't happen again. You just startled me." He breathes in deep and plays with his lip ring. His heated stare locks on to me.
Adrenaline chases heat through my body. No man since Gary has ever made me feel this hyperaware of my femininity, and like the Shania Twain song, I feel totally like a woman. I can't do this. But then he'll think I'm even crazier if I back out. Taking a shaky breath, I try to clear
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